Choose a day
by moonsofmars
Summary: When she finds out that Gowther doesn't have a birthday, Nadja does her best to explain to him why he should have one


**N/A: **I wrote this for Gowther's birthday, but I didn't have time to post it here until now, so here it is! I wrote it in a few hours and probably it's not my best work, but anyway enjoy!

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**Choose a day**

It's almost the end of August when it comes out. The air is warm on his skin and the lenses of his glasses reflect the sunlight so that everything seems wrapped in yellow and gold, Nadja's delicate shape included. She is sitting next to him on the blanket they laid on the soft the grass of one of the courtyards of the castle, her arms wrapped around her knees and her head tilted as she looks at him, her eyes narrow and her brows furrowed.

"Never? Not even … not even before?" She asks, her voice curious but a bit hesitant when she mentions the time before they met – she knows that Gowther doesn't like to talk about it. However, she shouldn't be worried about hurting him; even though he knows that it's something illogical to think, Gowther is pretty sure that there is no way for her to hurt him.

"Never," he answers, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have made sense. I wasn't born, I wasn't alive. I was just a puppet." He stops for a moment, his mind analyzing the memories he has of him – of Gowther. "I know that the person who made me had one – a birthday, but there was no one to celebrate it with him, not after he made me."

There was someone before, Gowther knows that – he knows her name, her features, her gentle nature. But she was gone for a long time when he has been activated for the first time.

"Oh," Nadja presses her lips together, looking away, her hand squeezing the soft fabric of her dress; she looks like she is ashamed, but this makes no sense. Why should she be ashamed?

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, looking at him again, and now that he can see her eyes Gowther understands that she is sad – and this causes something inside him, something he can't clearly name, to ache and weighs down in a strangely unpleasant way.

"I'm sorry for that person – for your father," she continues, "and … and I'm sorry for you."

"Don't be," he hurries to add, tilting his head. He is not sure why she sounds so sad, but he doesn't want her to be, never. "It was a long time ago. And not being born never bothered me. It's what I am."

Nadja shakes her head and rapidly kneels down, taking his hands on her own; she holds them, her thumbs softly caressing his skin, as she stares into his eyes with a resolute look that makes him fall silent, unable to speak.

"You – it doesn't matter how you came into this world, it doesn't matter that you weren't actually born. You are a person, exactly like me, like my brothers and all the people of Britannia. And exactly like all of us, you deserve to be celebrated."

It's hard to understand what is the pleasant warmth that is gathering in his chest; it's something Gowther can't explain with science or magic, something that confounds him and that seems to be strangely frequent when he is with Nadja. Sometimes, he wonders if there is something wrong with his heart, but he can't be sure. Only Gowther knew how it works, and now Gowther is gone.

He blinks, even though technically he doesn't have to – his eyes don't work like human ones, trying not to think about that warm, comforting feeling, or about his heart. "But I don't need that," he finally says. "What's the purpose?"

This time Nadja's eyes widen and for a moment she remains silent, pursing her lips, thinking about the answer; she doesn't let his hands, though, not even for a moment, her fingers laced with his own.

"A birthday," she slowly starts, "it's an occasion to celebrate someone you love, to make them feel loved and simply to have a good time with them. It's a way to remind you that you are lucky to have that person with you and to make them know that you feel like this." She falls silent, chewing her lip, before start talking again. "With my parents … it's not easy. They are always so busy and I rarely see them. It's – it's not their fault, of course. They love me and my brothers, they just … don't have time. But when it's my birthday – or Bartra's or Denzel's – they always cancel their appointments and they spend all day with us!" Her lips curve into a bright smile while she talks, and Gowther almost gets lost observing the way her features change as she tells him about the way they celebrated her last birthday. She has a particular way of wrinkling her nose when she smiles, and her eyes almost sparkle – there is not another way to describe them, they look like stars – as she recalls how she was happy when they agreed to go out of town, at least for a few hours, and how beautiful the fields were, the ground covered by snow.

When she finishes and she stares at him, her cheeks are rosy and her eyes bright. He would want to smile back at her, but he realizes that he is already smiling, who knows for how long. "It sounds like a pleasant thing," he says, and he means that, truly. He briefly wonders how it would have been to do something like that with Gowther, but he rapidly dismisses the thought. Past can't change.

"Right?" Nadja beams at him, holding his hands tighter. "That's why you should have a birthday! And … and you know what? You'll have one! Just choose a day, the one you want, and that will be your birthday!" She nods, her eyes shining with excitement. "And we will do whatever you like! We could have a party, it would be fun, and – and I will make you a present! Whatever you like!"

Gowther stares at her for a moment, furrowing his brows. She looks so happy right now, just thinking about his birthday, and he doesn't want to let her down, but he doesn't know which date he should choose. The day he awoke for the first time, in Gowther's lab, an unfinished project that couldn't really think or feel? It doesn't seem right. He opens his mouth to ask her for help, but he stops before saying a word.

Because suddenly, he knows.

"You already made me a present," he quietly says, his smile widening as he squeezes her hands back – why is she flushing like that, all of a sudden?

"Do you remember? The second time we met. You didn't know me at all, but you came back for me and you brought me your treasure. It was the first time that someone – except for Gowther – gave me something, and I felt – I don't know how to explain how I felt, but it was good. That was my birthday present."

Nadja stares at him for a moment, still flushed and her mouth opens like she wants to say something but she can't. When he notices her watery eyes, Gowther blinks and gets closer, trying to understand what happened – did he hurt her? He didn't want to hurt her, he would never do such a thing.

"Nadja, you – "

But a moment later her arms are around his neck and she is pressing her face against his chest, the clear sound of her laughter filling the air. When she looks up at him, he notices that even though her eyes are full of tears, she is smiling happily.

"So, that day will be your birthday," she says, her voice sounding surprisingly firm and yet emotional. "And I promise you, next year we will make it better!"

Gowther stares at her, feeling again his body getting warmer, and he knows that if he had a real heart, now it would beat faster and pound in his ears. His lips curves again, this time in a larger smile, and he holds her too, enjoying the soft touch of her body on his.

"I know it will be great," he says, his eyes fixed on hers, "because you will be with me."

Because that's the only thing he desires for his birthday. That Nadja will be with him, forever.


End file.
